A BLoved Fairy Tale
by Shizuka no Taisho
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a creepy witch living in the forest to the north. He liked to eat little children, and dance around the trees wearing a wolf pelt. He also had a fierce obsession with the witch of the south, whose beauty couldn't be compared


**This is loosely based off my ongoing Tales of Terror, which you can reread on DA and . There are vague spoilers though, not that I'm going to point out what they are. And being the dick I am….you STILL don't know who the beloved princess (in this tale witch) is! HA! **

**Keep in mind, several things have been changed from the original plot to suit the more proper fairy tale theme. So when things seem different in the next Tale of Terror (which is in works guys!), don't be too surprised. **

**Good. Enjoy the story!**

_Disclaimer: I do not own the classic fairy tales, much less Death Note._

_Once upon a time, there was a creepy witch living in the forest to the north. He liked to eat little children, and dance around the trees wearing a wolf pelt, all while scaring the nearby sheep. He also had a fierce obsession with the witch of the south, whose beauty and mind couldn't be compared. Perhaps his obsession was what sparked the tale he unwittingly began to write….or maybe he was just bored. _

_One day, two children came to his door, a pair of boys, both begging him for food. They'd run away from home, because their grandfather wanted to send them to separate schools, as together they did nothing but get in trouble. The redheaded boy was short, innocent, and the blond was anything but his given name. _

_After staring at them, the witch shrugged and let them inside. What the hell, he thought. Two little tots couldn't do much damage. _

_HE WAS WRONG._

_The boys wrecked his house, ate all his jam, and completely trashed the collection of animal skeletons he kept in neat cases in his parlor room. Furious, the witch kicked them out to be eaten by the other wolves, or maybe tormented to death by that annoying white sheep that kept bleating outside his window. But they begged and pleaded for forgiveness, the redhead sobbing into the blonde's shoulder, so finally the witch took pity and let them back in. Hell, they weren't supposed to die yet anyway. _

_BAD IDEA…AGAIN. _

_Once more, the boys did nothing but cause chaos and mayhem. And this time, the tiny blond shredded his favorite blue dress. Needless to say, the witch was furious. He wanted to throw them out, hope they would starve all alone in the wilderness, but he had a much better idea. So, in the dark of the night, he stole the redhead away to a cage in his basement, and the blond was tied to a chair in his living room. They wanted to misbehave, and act like those naughty children in all those fairy tales? Fine. Three could play that game. _

_His red haired child was chopped to bits and cooked in the oven. The witch always did love the taste of succulent flesh. Besides, his fellow wolf, the one of the east, would just hate to know his assumptions that the pelt wearing monster of the north ate human flesh were correct. _

_He gobbled the child up, piece by piece, saving a leg for the stew he'd been cooking in his fireplace. Then came the blond's turn, and he did a fine job with him. Such a feminine appearance he had by nature; all the witch did was enhance it. A bit of rogue to make his cheeks the color of roses, and sky colored eyes outlined in soft kohl. He was ravishing. _

_The witch highly enjoyed stringing him up. Geppetto would be proud. And his doll could speak too! Such a darling doll…he decided to keep him. He'd make a fine gift to his beloved witch of the south, if he ever came to call. _

_Finally, all was peaceful….except then a soft noise cut through the house. Bleat bleat! _

_Clearly annoyed, the witch stole to his window. The sheep was outside, looking in, wide eyes blank and cold. Seeing him, he made that noise again. BLEET BLEAT! He was displeased, needless to say. Donning his wolf pelt, the witch attempted to scare the sheep away. But he stayed firm, and worse….the sounds grew louder. For three days, and three nights, it continued thus. _

_The witch couldn't take it. The…fucking…sheep…wouldn't…STOP….BLEATING! _

_Angered, his peace and quiet ruined once more, he flew out of the cottage in full wolf garb, teeth and claw sinking into the white pelted animal and tearing him limb for limb. He had to spit out the flesh though. The taste of sheep wasn't palatable to him. But maybe the witch far to the south would like it? _

_The witch of the north was able to settle down as soon as the noise was gone, a fresh hock of meat in his underground freezer. On the fire, his stew bubbled away, a bowl of which was fed to the blond doll as they sat quietly. He'd been so obedient, the witch couldn't muster up the courage to kill him. Besides, his mind was filled with images of the witch from the south anyway. His beautiful face, and wide eyes…._

_A soft knock came at the door. Surprised, he answered it. What luck! There on his doorstep, clothed in the colors of the southern lands, was the witch he'd been thinking of! He led his love interest inside, all too eager to please. Knowing him to be logical, and rather intelligent, he tried to draw him into conversation, but the witch blew off his efforts, a cutting word of disapproval on his tongue. He wanted to see what the witch of the north did as a hobby. _

_Excited by his intrigue, he was quick to display his pretty collections. The witch of the south looked on them all with cold abandon, even the pretty Dresden doll sitting in his chair. They bored him, he said, eyes narrow with distaste._

_Frustrated, the witch of the north offered to cook him a meal, asking if sheep would be alright. The witch replied with a curt yes, and he immediately went to work. In no time at all he was handing his fellow a plate of freshly carved meat, which he ate with quiet grace. Yet still….he looked displeased. The witch of the north looked upon him, and out came a slew of words the witch garbed in wolf fur had never hoped to hear. His love….hated him! He had only come to punish the witch of the north, as the two boys he'd murdered had in fact been grandchildren, and heir, to the great King of the west. _

_His tongue in knots, all he could do was stare at his pretty guest. He…hated him? The tears threatened to burn, but he shoved them away, growing cold in his pelt of silver fur. The witch hated him….HIM. His fellow, the opposite to his southern charms….surely it wasn't so! He tried to entice the witch, begging him to understand, but the witch of the south refused, deeming him a monster. Unfit. That was the end of the straw. _

_Hopes dashed, the man in wolf fur fell into his carnal urges, and within moments he had the witch of the south restrained in his bedchamber. He fought back, as any good witch would do, but there was a surprise awaiting him in the tiny room. A box of glass, which the northern witch had stolen from the eastern's mountains. He pushed the golden witch into the box, and immediately the magic took hold. For it was an enchanted box, placing all within into an unbreakable sleep. _

_He watched his beautiful love, the fair witch of the south, sink into his sleep. _

_Finally, they could be together! _

_His Dresden doll was placed at the box's side, standing guard, and the witch assembled an array of fresh blooms and petals on top. Gifts for his fellow. And placed over his motionless frame to keep him warm was the cleaned sheep pelt, which he had skinned off the rotting sheep's corpse. It suited his complexion beautifully. _

_Thrilled, the witch of the north threw on his cloak, a deep red taken from his beloved's shoulders, and danced away into the trees outside. The woods were silent, filled only with his happy laughter. Together forever! He ran outside, drinking in the dreary woods with their black moss and unfeeling eyes. This was his home, and it was quiet. He liked it that way. And lucky him, he forever had company! The witch of the south was asleep in his box, forever beautiful, while the pretty prince turned doll watched over, dutiful. No sheep disturbed, and not a crying child could be spotted. _

_The witch smiled, clawed hands clapping. _

_Such a happy ever after! _


End file.
